The Book Without Eyes [Chapter Five]

After gaining enough courage to venture forward into this new and unknown world, I climbed through one of the shattered windows of my apartment.
The ground was moist and deflated under the weight of my feet. I looked around in all directions in hopes of finding some kind of landmark to follow. I found none, but ultimately decided to follow the two moons I had first beheld upon my arrival. I glanced back at my upturned apartment that looked incongruous against the alien backdrop.
As I trudged atop the bog-like ground I listened to the faint whistle of the winds. They were soothing and almost therapeutic.
I looked at the thickets of tall slender grass that extended outward in all directions over the rolling hills of this alien world. They swayed like euphoric sea anemones in a gentle ocean current. I had nearly forgotten that I was on another world until I heard a bone chilling sound from my right.
Hidden deep in the thickets it ran. I heard it sprint in a semicircle behind me. I paused and focused on the sounds; the sardonic whispers of buzzing clicks and alien guttural moans. The sounds resembled that of what can only be described as a dying goat with a swarm of locusts in its throat. Then I jumped with a start when I beheld a creature just to my left.
The creature stood almost entirely concealed by the swaying thickets, but I could see it was vaguely humanoid with predominantly aquatic-reptilian features.  It stood nearly seven feet tall and was grotesquely slender. Its arms were outstretched in either side as if it were preparing for battle. At the end of both its thin arms I saw three massive fingers each ending with menacing claws that were a pale ivory. The skin on its arms hung loosely over the thin bone that protruded from it. The skin fell the way old women's arms sometimes dangle.
The creature took a powerful step toward me and left the cover of the grass. Its body was a malformed impersonation of The Creature of the Black Lagoon. It cocked its head to the side and let out a croaking groan that was reminiscent of a bull frog's dying belch. The beast took another step toward me and my bladder failed, for I saw the whole of its head. It was a bald scaly head with two holes in either side that were, what I assumed to be ears. At the bottom stretched a giant mouth that hung open with a plethora of jagged needle-thin teeth. Above that were two slits that were most likely nostrils and above that was just skin that extended to the back of its head.
The eyeless creature took another step toward me and that was when I became weak and blacked out. When I awoke I was being drug along the moist ground toward the sound of lapping water. I felt an abrasive hand clenching one of my ankles. I looked around and beheld four of the eyeless creatures walking beside me, they all had their gazes fixed onto something off in the distance in the direction we were traversing.
Then I saw it, a mammoth body of water extending in all directions. In the center of the still water stood three cyclopian spires that protruded from the lake like some perverted Dr. Suess imitation. Then the creatures took me into the water and I held my breath.

-Jestro

Bottomless [Chapter Six]

Skrog's attention became erratic; it bounced around from person to person in the mob of angry humans and elves that encroached on him.
"This is not necessary, friends-" Skrog began but was quickly cut off.
"Friends!?" Some faceless voice called out from a place in the mob Skrog couldn't see. "What kinda friend let's ya' beat 'em over th' 'ead with a staff!?"
Several grunts of agreement came from the mob. Skrog glanced behind him, the mob was shrinking. He felt like his air was being slowly sucked out of him as his pulse quickened. He knew time was running out, if he didn't act now he'd be a huddled pile of broken green meat by day break.
He dug his hand into his pouch, nothing was in it. He was out of options, he'd have to make a run for it. He took a step toward a nearby alleyway and the mob lunged at him all at once like some kind of grotesque amoeba shrinking in on its prey.
A loud communal roar broke out from the mob as they came for him. He made eye contact with a disheveled looking human with shaggy hair and a young beard.
"Sorry, kid." Skrog thought to himself. "But you're in my way."
In a flash Skrog brought his staff up like a lance and charged at the young bearded man, one hand holding the staff near his armpit and the other fully extended in front of him. As he braced for impact his extended hand grasped the staff firmly. The young bearded man's eye grew wide once he realized what was coming, but it was too late by then. The staff collided with his chest and pushed him backward. As Skrog's pace quickened the young bearded man fell on his back. The rest of the mob closed in like water, but Skrog had all the room he needed. It wasn't a pretty escape, but it was an escape. In this moment, that was all Skrog wanted.
Skrog skipped over the fallen young bearded man and sprinted toward the alleyway. Trash and sludge colored the corners of the walls in jagged looking triangles. The cobblestone floor was slimy and glistened in the low light. The buildings on either side were boarded up and seemed forgotten.
Skrog kept his eyes forward as he sprinted. In his mind the mob was just a millimeter behind him waiting for him to slow down so they could tear him apart. This fear made his feet move faster.
He rounded a sloppy bend in the alleyway as it connected to another, a stray dog fled in terror from him. With each hard step Skrog's breath was growing more rough, like his lungs were slowly turning to sandpaper. Each gasp for new air felt like fire and Skrog's skin tingled with electric sweat.
He rounded another bend.
Then he saw that he was running toward a canal.
Several smaller canals ran throughout the districts like spiderwebs. These canals were used to by traders to move product easily. A boat cost less than a cart or wagon and the traders never needed pack animals. The problem with the canals was of course, their limited course and narrowness. Once Skrog jumped into the canal the mob would know exactly where he was headed and could cut him off by running ahead. But this was Skrog's only choice.
Something blurred in front of him. In an instant he saw a massive wolf, known as a warg, land in the alleyway just before the canal. Instinct kicked in and Skrog slid on one knee beneath the beast. As he slid underneath the warg he turned and saw the mob trying to stop itself. It did.
Skrog stopped just before falling into the canal. He dug his free hand into the grimy cobblestone and used it as an anchor.
The warg growled and several people in the mob screamed. They slowly moved backward as the warg took a step toward them. Then it howled and the mob tore off in the direction they had come faster than Skrog could understand.
Then the warg turned to Skrog.
"You idiot." A voice inside Skrog's head said. It was feminine but in no way delicate. It was a low, beastly voice. "Now how are we going to fix this?"
"I'm sorry, I just-" Skrog tried to say.
"Stop!" The voice screamed as the warg barked. "This is unforgivable."
"Vola, I'm sorry!" Skrog pleaded. "I couldn't help myself."
"Well, you're going to need to start." The voice inside his head said. "We'll be thrown out of this town too now."
"I won't let that happen." Skrog said as he got to his feet. "I'll take care of us."
The warg turned around and began to slowly walk back down the alleyway.
"And I'll end up taking care of you, as always." There was still a harshness in the voice that Skrog took as a scolding, but there was also an air of forgiveness that made Skrog smile. "Let's go to the old man before this gets out of control."
"Okay." Skrog said and rushed to walk by Vola's side.
-Jestro

The Book Without Eyes [Chapter Four]

I awoke several days later. But in all honesty, I can not be certain if the elapsed time was in fact, a matter of days. For after the book had opened my perception of time and space began to shift and distort tempestuously like some terrible maelstrom of malignant disdain. I would soon count my days in terms of book pages, for now the book would lay open, impenetrably fixed on a single page.

The only way to turn the page was to read, and as I did I would find myself slipping deeper and deeper into the cacophony of absolute vastness.

But fear not, traveler, I can now discern the true ethical relativism of the multiverse. This is why I am retelling my story to you.

There are several of us, more significant than the masses of God-food that make up the majority of space, who can call to power great change. The beast I spoke of earlier is that great change and those relics of great power can call the beast into being. Or rather, we will be called to it. My retelling shall be your map to it and so I will continue.

I awoke several days later to behold the book lying open on my desk. I tried to ignore it, shut the premonition from my mind. I told myself it was nothing more than a psychotic hallucination brought on by the tap water (at the time I was paranoid of a fabricated "Big Brother" who was polluting the waterways and thus turning the masses into drones) and that I just needed to be more cautious. These were, of course, absurd notions by my primordial psyche trying to make sense of the incalculable knowledge that was slowly being driven into my mind like water eroding stone. 

I walked to my refrigerator for sustenance, a trivial want of the flesh that I would soon forget, when I heard something truly awful. 

From behind the walls I heard the bass, it kicked and rattled them. My Evas vibrated sardonically to the pulse like mocking trolls. I recognized the song for my neighbor, Sedel, played it continuously everyday whenever he was at home. It was titled "Bando" and it was by Migos. As the sounds penetrated my apartment I could feel the knowledge of the book weakening and my mind dulling to the ludicrous ramblings of these pop icons. 

The book became indignant. 

Then my apartment flipped and gyrated tumultuously and I was flung around like a rag doll. When gravity had centered itself once more I noticed the terrible noises coming from Sedel's apartment had been silenced. Upon further inspection I could hear a low rumbling of thunder and the swooning croon of wind blowing against the cracks in my windows. 

I stood up. My apartment had been literally turned upside down, all of my material possessions lest the book were scattered along what was now the floor. I painstakingly made my way to a window and peeked through it. On the other side of the transparent glass were rolling hills topped with long, seaweed like grass that swayed like hair in the whining wind. Above them was only a dark sky, completely empty except for two radiant moons that pulsated like hearts.

-Jestro